The Good, the Bad, and William the Bloody
by 3xy
Summary: Season six, post Bargaining Part I. Demons overrun Sunnydale, Spike is left alone in the Summers' house, and Buffy is resurrected and returns home just a few days after The Scoobies leave town. When Spike realizes that Buffy is far from the Buffy they kne
1. Chapter 1

**The Good, The Bad and (William) The Bloody**

**Betas: dawnofme and tanit  
**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Slayer blood dripped from the sides of his mouth; its taste lingered on his tongue and its power coursed through his veins. This and every other bloody thing – the body limp on the damp dirt, the death-like, shivering silence hovering over the cold cemetery – told him it was real. A menacing, unearthly whisper crept into his mind; told him he'd done something terribly, terribly bad...

It had seemed to be the only solution right from the moment she walked into the wrecked Summers' home. From the cold, vacant darkness in her eyes and the change in her familiar scent, it was clear: she wasn't the woman he fell in love with.

He'd half-expected her to be traumatized, wherever she'd been. But there was no hint of shock, fear, or uncertainty. Though she was the Slayer, she was still human. That was something the Scoobies sometimes failed to remember.

Buffy seemed apathetic as well. She had not even asked what the bleeding hell was going on. Though she had asked about Dawn and the Scoobies, which he thought to be a good sign, he still felt that something had changed about her.

With a crooked smile, he said, "I don't know where they are exactly. Don't receive memos from that lot, do I?" Buffy only responded with an absent stare. She was still wearing the black dress that she'd been dressed in when they had buried her. "Last I heard from Dawn, they were at Angel's." He'd anticipated a change in her mood when he mentioned the poof, but she only nodded with disinterest and began to walk around the ruined house.

"It's bloody chaos out there, Slayer," he said to her above the noise of motorcycles revving and accelerating, demons laughing, and people crying and screaming as he followed her around the house.

"I know." She seemed to be looking for something. What it might be, Spike had no idea, until she stopped in front of the Summers' weapons chest beneath the shards of glass and rubble. She turned to him in an instant, her eyes still as cold as before. She asked him with uncertainty, "This is my weapons chest, isn't it?"

"Right," Spike replied slowly, still unable to believe that Buffy was right there in front of him, alive. Of course, it could have been a dream. He'd dreamed about her hundreds of times before. But everything felt so real, so vivid, that he _knew_ he wasn't dreaming this time.

She picked up a couple of weapons with great ease, as if her body had not been laying limp and decaying just a couple of hours ago. She seemed to be stronger than ever and it scared him to death.

"Where are you off to?" He knew bloody well she wasn't going to give him a sodding map or a detailed description, but it was all he could think to say. With all the thoughts running through his mind, it was a wonder he managed even such a simple question.

Buffy examined the array of weapons on hand, determining which to bring and which to leave behind for her quest. When she decided to go with the small ones, the knife and the crossbow, she glanced up at him. "This is my turf. The demons need to know who they're dealing with."

"You might want to slow down there a little, love," Spike hurriedly said. "You've just come back from..." He shifted as the word hell came into his mind, though Buffy's glance was still blank, as if it didn't bother her at all. "I don't know what you've been through but--"

She did the infamous Buffy Summers' eye roll, which comforted him a little and reassured him that she was indeed Buffy. She spun around, flipping her hair, and walked towards the threshold. "I'm fine," she said over her shoulder.

_This is Buffy_, Spike assured himself. _Stubborn Buffy_. He'd moved past her, beating her to the front door and grabbing her arm just as she grasped the doorknob. That was when he saw her bloodied knuckles. He withdrew his hand and Buffy did the same but with not the least hint of embarrassment.

"Your hand,"he said in a sympathetic voice. Buffy ducked her head. "Had to crawl your way out of your grave, didn't you?"

Buffy lifted her head, her eyes nothing short of complete passivity. "I guess you would know. You, being dead and all." Ignoring Spike's dropped jaw and raised eyebrow, she made her way out of the house.

Spike grumbled a few incoherent words and ran after her.

Sensing the vampire right behind her, Buffy spun around. She held up her hand to stop him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not," she said firmly. Taking a few steps to him so that they were face to face, she said through gritted teeth, "I am doing this alone. And if you don't want to end up gone with the wind, you'd better stay out of my way... _vampire_." She stepped back, looked him up and down, and turned from him, continuing to walk away.

Spike stood there, stunned and speechless, his mouth agape, his unnecessary breathing fast. _She wasn't Buffy._

"Fine! Do whatever you like, you crazy bitch!" Immediately, he regretted his words and shouted, "Be careful!"

Spike continued to look after her as she walked away. There was no way in hell he was going to leave her alone.

Buffy scoured Sunnydale for the place where most of the demons were. She ended up at the Bronze and with a shrug, she said, "Figures." She'd walked in, crossbow in hand and knife hidden beneath her dress. "So this is where the party's at." Every demon in the Bronze eyed her as she continued to saunter further into the hall.

"Slayer," one demon growled, and then charged at her, full force.

Buffy knocked him unconscious with one upper cut, making the rest of the demons lined up against the wall shrink back.

"So..." Buffy said coyly as she stood in the middle of the roomful of demons.

One demon stepped forward. He appeared to be the leader of the group, acting as if he weren't afraid of the Slayer in their midst. He had pointy teeth peeking out from behind his colorless lips. His eyes were deep red, his nose pudgy with two huge holes. His skin was pale yellow with orange splotches. "Thought you were dead."

Buffy twirled the crossbow and shrugged, "I was. Guess I bounce back quickly."

"How do you want to do this?"

"Beg pardon?" Buffy asked, still playing innocent.

"Think you could take us all?"

Buffy chuckled and the demons growled. "Oh, I'm not here to fight, Mister..." She looked the demon up and down with her nose wrinkled. "Ugly-pants."

The demon clenched his jaw. "Then what are ya here for?"

"A proposition," Buffy answered straightforwardly.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Good, The Bad and (William) The Bloody**

**Beta: dawnofme and Tanit  
**

Chapter 2

Spike's mind was full of questions when he saw Buffy walk into the demon-filled Bronze. He closed his eyes and grumbled a few curses as he thought about Buffy's irrational behavior. Fearing that the still recovering Slayer would do something as utterly stupid as facing a horde of demons, he walked around to the back of the nightclub. He wanted to know what she was really up to and if she needed help, he wanted to be there. Although judging by how she'd acted back at the wrecked Summers' house, she didn't need it. Nonetheless, he would keep an eye on her.

It still surprised him how quickly she got back on her feet. Slayer strength or no Slayer strength, it was definitely odd.

He slowly made his way to the back alley of the Bronze, craning his neck as he hid behind a wall to see if there were lookouts. Fortunately, there was only one demon guarding the door. Spike grinned, knowing that getting past the demon would be a piece of cake. He raised his upper lip on one side and swaggered right up the entrance. He continued to saunter up the steps until the demon stopped him just a few feet away from the door.

Spike kept his calm and looked the demon in his blood red eyes. "I'm here for the shindig."

The demon chuckled. He eyed Spike, put his hands on the sides of his rotund waist and then snorted. "No, you're not. _William the Bloody_."

Spike inhaled deeply to ready himself for the fight he knew was coming_._ "Famous, am I? But it's just Spike now, mate," he said casually.

"I know who you are. You're affiliated with the dead Slayer," the demon clucked and advanced toward him. It lunged, arms wide open, ready to grab the vampire.

Spike pushed him to the side with his left hand and kneed him in the stomach, hard. The demon doubled over and Spike mercilessly kicked him one more time. He titled his head left to right, readjusted his coat and walked past him. "Ponce." He chuckled and made his way in.

As soon as he entered backstage, he heard Buffy's voice. "A proposition."

The demon scoffed, though he seemed to be interested in hearing what the Slayer had to say as he stood there silently and seemingly in deep thought. "What kind of proposition?"

"The kind where I don't kill you," Buffy said while she paced across the dance floor. The demon didn't answer, probably gauging if she was bluffing or not. "And believe me, I could kill every single one of you. I sort of killed a God, in case you haven't heard," she said with a smug smirk. She cocked her head to the side and asked,. "Who are you again?"

"My name is Roh'gna. Chief of the--"

"Whatever," Buffy said, waving a hand dismissively as she kept walking back and forth across the center of the club. "So what do you say, Rhonda?"

The demon clenched his fists and stopped himself from attacking the Slayer right then and there. Though he knew there was a possibility that they could take her if they attacked all at once, he wasn't going to risk it. Not now, at least. He tried to correct her. "Roh'g--"

"I don't kill you and let you stay; you take orders from me," Buffy said, cutting him off. She stopped in front of Roh'gna and folded her arms, her right foot slightly forward and sneered. "And we'll all be one big happy family."

Despite the authoritativeness in her demeanor, every demon in the Bronze laughed at her. Roh'gna laughed the loudest. The absurdity of one girl taking on tens of demons, however strong she was, was too much.

But Buffy wasn't the least bit deterred. Her lips turned into a frigid straight line. She was certain and absolutely serious about everything she'd said and their mockery didn't have any effect on her. Instead, she scanned the Bronze for a victim and approached one demon in the corner to prove her point. "You seem strong enough," she said with a shrug. The demon raised his chin, a gesture that said that he agreed with her and was proud of it.

Unexpectedly, Buffy socked the chosen demon in the face, grabbed his huge, slimy head and snapped his thick neck. The maniacal laughter ceased. The demons all fell silent and the only sound that filled the room was the loud thud of the lifeless body of the demon as it hit the ground.

Buffy's eyes wandered across the room, looking at the demons whose mouths hung open. Her face lit up with a cocky grin, pleased that she'd accomplished her goal. "Right. As I was saying... Do we have a deal?" She faced the angered Roh'gna and said, "Not like you have a choice, but..."

"What's in it for us?"

Buffy quirked a brow and pouted. "Didn't I just say the continuing-to-live-your-worthless-lives part? Isn't anybody listening?"

"And what else?"

Buffy leered and strode forward, stopping when she was in front of Roh'gna. "You know, I'm getting _really_ tired of convincing you." She looked the chief straight in the eye, challenging him, threatening him with just her glare.

Roh'gna forced down the bile in his throat. He wasn't going to let some little girl boss him around, but then again, the Slayer wasn't just any little girl. He decided to cooperate, this time at least. Voice tight with anger, he asked, "What do you want us to do?"

Spike, all the while, had been eavesdropping. At first, he told himself that Buffy was just bluffing. He tried to convince himself that she was just playing them and was getting ready to finish them all off though he knew it really wasn't Buffy's style to follow the _keep your friends close and your enemies closer_ school of thought. But now, he'd had enough. He didn't want to listen any more. He couldn't believe what he'd heard. The Slayer had definitely gone daft. It was as if he was listening to some cold-blooded killer, a demon, even.

Spike ran his hand down his pallid cheeks and exhaled loudly. He studied Buffy for a moment, deciding whether to stay or to go. He figured that if he was to save Buffy from herself, he needed to know what she was planning. If he didn't like it, he might just be able to stop her if he had the least bit idea of what she was up to. So he chose to stay and remain for the rest of the meeting.

A few moments later, Buffy quickly spun around to his direction, eyebrows furrowed and eyes trying to pierce the darkness where Spike was hiding. Spike quickly saw that she had sensed him, and sunk back further into the shadows to avoid being seen.

Turning back to the demons, Buffy told them that they should continue the conversation at some other time. "I still need my beauty sleep," she said. She moved past Roh'gna who was scratching his chin in confusion.

Spike left quickly when he saw Buffy headed for the exit. If he hurried, he could beat Buffy home and she would never know that he'd been spying on her.


	3. Chapter 3

Betas: dawnofme and Tanit

**Chapter 3**

The floor could have had a trench in it by the time Buffy got back to the barely standing Summers' home. Spike had been walking slowly in long strides, back and forth across the disheveled living room, occasionally stopping to look at the clock and wondering what was taking Buffy so long. He shook his head and cursed under his breath for leaving before she did. She could have stayed when she'd sensed that she wasn't being watched any more.

The television was murmuring in the background as he waited for her to arrive. Spike had chuckled wryly when he saw i_Salem's Lot/i _was playing. A movie about a town invaded by vampires, and it was up to two people to save the day. "How fitting."

The door creaked as it opened and he turned around. He saw Buffy come in, and relief washed over him. He called out to her before she ran up the stairs.

Buffy spun around quickly in surprise. She closed her half-opened mouth, dropped the hand she had clutched to her chest, and approached him. "You're still here. And awake."

"Vampire."

"Right." Her focus went to the television set for a quick second, and then she gave Spike another look. "I'm going to bed." She walked away from him and Spike followed her just to the foot of the staircase. He watched her ascend the stairs in her black dress, gliding her hand along the wobbly railing while she took one slow step at a time, and it reminded him of Drusilla. The semblance between the two brought gooseflesh out on Spike's arms.

Buffy's hiss called him out of his thoughts.

"What happened?"

Buffy turned to him with her brows furrowed and a pout. It was the first time she actually looked like Buffy. She went back down to the foot of the stairs and showed him her hand.

Spike gulped when he saw a splinter stuck in the palm of her hand, which was now only a few inches from his nose, the metallic aroma inviting him to taste the blood of a Slayer once more. Buffy's lips slowly stretched to a mischievous curl. "I hurt my hand."

"Let's take care of that," he said in a tight voice as he pulled her by the hand up to the second floor. "Y-you should be careful around here. Place is a mess. Lots of splinters, broken glass here and there."

They entered the bathroom and Spike rifled through the cabinet for the first aid kit. Buffy watched, amused by how she'd shaken him up with just a drop of her blood. Spike hesitantly held her hand as he removed the splinter and began to disinfect the wound, dabbing at gently. "I guess we need to take care of this too," he said, noticing the wounds on her knuckles.

After he'd bandaged her hands, he carefully placed them down at her sides, as if she were Miss Edith and made of porcelain.

"Get some rest." Spike started for the door but Buffy's predatory voice stopped him.

"I know you want my blood."

Spike froze at the door with his back to her. He knew there was going to be trouble when he heard the sound of a zipper opening.

He spun around and saw Buffy stripped of her clothes. Her cat-like eyes tempted him to ravage her right there; just the sight of her pursed lips made him painfully hard.

Hastily averting his eyes, Spike saw her dress on the floor and picked it up. He raised his hand and gave her back her clothes, with his eyes still downcast, and chose to say nothing.

Buffy grabbed her clothes. She hugged her dress over the front of her exposed body and in a harsh tone asked, "Who do you think you're fooling with this hero crap? You're a killer. Just like me."

Spike, head still bent, slowly lifted his gaze. "What the hell is wrong with you?" His eyes burned with tears that he tried to hold back. He fisted his hands and gazed into her soulless eyes.

"Deal with it." she said firmly. She turned to the tub and turned the faucet on.

Spike's nails carved half-moons into his shaking palms as he stood there, unmoving. Buffy had come back wrong. She'd been resurrected somehow, and there were grave consequences. The only possible explanation he could think of was magic – the kind that shouldn't be messed with. And there was only one of the Scoobies who was powerful enough, and now maybe stupid enough, to dabble with such dark magics.

His eyes widened and he clenched his hands. "Willow," he whispered with a grunt.

Buffy spun around when she heard Spike was still there. "Are you going to just stand there and watch me take a bath?"

"I'll get your room ready for you." Spike walked out of the bathroom, teeth clenched in anger, and closed the door behind him. He went into Buffy's room and cleared the bed of Willow's things. He then made his way down the stairs, mind reeling, and wandered back into the living room. Needing to calm down, he sat on the sofa, wringing his hands between his knees, breathing deeply. As his tension eased, he began to notice the sounds coming from upstairs. The water splashed softly and Buffy was humming; he couldn't help but imagine her in the tub. He chuckled disdainfully at his thoughts.

The longer Buffy spent in the bath, the more time he had to consider his options. When he heard the water rush through the pipes, he knew bath time was over. Moments later, the bathroom door opened. He stood up and went to the living room threshold, bracing himself for another confrontation. He was relieved when he heard Buffy's footsteps cross the hall instead of toward the staircase. A door closed, and he cocked his head, listening carefully, waiting. A few minutes later, he heard her heartbeat and breathing slow and fall into a steady rhythm. He was certain she had fallen asleep and quickly headed for the desk where the phone was. He couldn't waste the opportunity to act. He needed some answers from the witch fast. He needed to know how she'd bargained for Buffy's life back. What did Willow give up, what did she get from it, and what had Buffy lost?

He opened the address book beside the phone and looked up the number for Angel Investigations. He picked up the phone and dialed.

A cheery woman answered. "Angel Investigations. We help the helpless. How can we help you?"

Spike gripped the telephone and began to rethink his decision to call Willow. He was sure that she'd be running to Peaches in an instant, asking for help. They'd be saving Buffy when _he_ should be the one to do it. His mouth opened, but only a strangled croak came out.

A crease formed between Cordelia's eyes while she twirled the phone's cord in her fingers. "Hello?"

"Is Red there?" Spike quickly asked. He wanted to know what was going on, and if Willow was responsible for Buffy's resurrection, she was his best hope for getting answers. So, sod his better judgment. If Willow did tell Angel and the wanker decided to help, then so be it. It was for Buffy, after all.

"Who?" Cordelia asked.

"Willow. Is she there?"

"Who's calling?"

The muscle in Spike's jaw ticked. This was harder than he expected. "It's Spike."

"Spike? i_The/i_ Spike? You're using a phone?" Cordelia asked incredulously, ignoring the annoyed tone in Spike's voice.

Spike's jaw tightened even more. He didn't have time for such dilly-dallying. "Yes, I'm using a bloody phone! Now can I i_please/i_ speak with Willow?"

"Okay, okay. Jeez."

About a minute later, after asking Cordelia if she was pulling a prank on her, Willow picked up the phone. "Spike?"

Spike hastily got to why he'd called. He'd wasted enough time already and if he was going to save Buffy from whatever deal Willow had made with the dark forces, he needed to move fast. "How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You bloody well know what," he said through gritted teeth.

"I don't know—"

"Did they take her soul? Did they make her half a demon? What was the deal?"

"Oh my God!" Willow gasped. "She's..." She didn't speak for a few moments, too surprised with what she'd just learned. "It worked?"

Spike was tapping his foot impatiently. "What worked?"

"I—It was just a resurrection spell. I didn't make any deal or--"

Before Willow had a chance to explain further, Spike hung up the phone. Shaking his head, he gripped the edge of the table. He leaned forward and ducked his head. He believed Willow, but what she'd done was still wrong. He was beyond happy that Buffy was alive but the thing about magic was that there were always consequences. Always. And now? Buffy had come back wrong.

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End file.
